


➴• all those stars recall your goodbye •➶

by foreverfangirling



Series: Sister Winchester !! ♡ [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Background Angels, Badass, Cliffhanger maybe but, Emotional Manipulation ??, Gen, Guess-The-Ending-Character-lol, Major Character Injury, Pre-Supernatural (TV), Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Older Brothers, Protective Sam Winchester, Quite violent but??, sister winchester, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-07 00:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6775801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverfangirling/pseuds/foreverfangirling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After losing his teenage siblings - Sam and Lara - to a group of psychotic die-hards, Dean Winchester is at an infuriated, heartbroken loss as to what to do now without his only responsibilities. Of course, there isn't much he can do since said psychopaths have him tied down to a chair. Apparently, he's the heart of an incredible plan that will occur in a decades time.<br/>And the Angels are running the show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	➴• all those stars recall your goodbye •➶

**Author's Note:**

> I suppose you could say this is an insight chapter for a fanfic I'm no where near completing, so please leave comments throughout the fic, as well as what you thought and voting because it really does keep me motivated!! ♡♡
> 
> Recommended (but not forcing!!) to listen to 'Oblivion' whilst reading because it's fantastic and is basically written around it; refer to this link if interested: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UjpbQ1OWMPE
> 
> You can also find this chapter on my Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/forever-fangirling 
> 
>  
> 
> Song lyrics used in title are from M83's song 'Oblivion', ft. Susanne Sundfør

**Date & Time:** September 25th 2000 — 06:14:49pm  _and counting_  |  **Location:**   _Unknown_ Whereabouts

The final bullet had taken Sam Winchester out through his head. Just like his sister, Lara.

Dean Winchester had watched helplessly, being held back by two of the burlier seven men, as Alec inclined above his bloodied brother (Sam had already been shot multiple times in his abdomen) and mercilessly taunted them both how he would: "Put little Sammy downlike a  _manic mutt._ Like the _monster_ he really is _."_

Dean's blood had  _boiled_ at that statement, but it was short lived _;_ Alec had struck the boy with a bullet through the brain. The eldest brother had hoarsely cried, yelled,  _screamed_  at his siblings' killer because who the  _hell_  butchers teenagers?   
Sam dropped like a bag of bricks mere inches away from his sister; Lara had been lying on her left side, an arm beneath her reaching out Dean's way and eyes now unearthly staring at Sam's own hazel, dead orbs. The Winchester blood had begun to pool together.

And even though all Dean had wanted to do was scoop them both up in his arms ( _screw the chick-flick vibe to it_ ) and to just  _die_  along with them, he was hauled away. The final image Dean had of his kid brother and sister was of them wide-eyed and  _slaughtered,_ clinging hopelessly to one another in a deathly embrace.

 

✰☄

 

Dean has since reflected over the scene that obliterated his life within a matter of minutes. The scene that  _literally_  obliterated Sam and Lara's lives.  
Dean was at an infuriated, heartbroken loss as to what to do now without his only responsibilities. Of course, there wasn't much he could do since said psychopaths have him tied down to a chair. Apparently, he's the heart of an incredible plan that will occur in a decade's time. And – according to those lunatics –  _Angels_  are running the show.

He did not care why he was involved in this scheme or that  _angels_  apparently exist and want him. What Dean did desire to know was why his brother and sister had to die?   
Dishearteningly, Dean also realised his dad would not want to see him afterwards; the Winchester patriarch had only just been reunited with his only daughter ten months ago, believing  _correctly_  for fifteen years that she had miraculously survived the unarticulated fire.

Moreover, Dean wished to know why he was left alone drowning in penitence.

 

✰☄

 

 **Time:**  06:15:34pm  _and counting_  |  **Same Location**

Respiration hit her like a freight train.

Lara gulped in air excessively, drawing out her breathing as she fathomed a general  _what the hell?_ Her final memory was of the seven angel-loving extremists snaring the three Winchesters, but she specifically recalled that  _bugger_ , Alec, threatening Dean and making him feel the lowest-of-the-low (which, from her ten month experience with him, should be avoided at all cost). It had antagonised her, so she had ripped herself from one of Alec's henchmen – a good heel kick to the shin usually does the trick – and darted straight towards the son-of-a-bitch.   
Only, a bullet had halted her; the  _crack_  of a gun was the last thing she had heard before her brain splintered.

She was sat up now, with blood –  _her blood –_ sticking hair-to-skin, a headache smiting her brain (courtesy of the freakishly absent bullet) and Sam's arm resting heavily on her lap.

 _Sam_.   
He had not woken up.

Disregarding the absurdity of being  _alive,_ Lara leant over her brother and tried to keep the panic from bubbling over her sanity. Sam  _was_  alive, that's for sure if the colour in his face was any indication, only he was being incredibly stubborn about waking up; there was only one thing to do. The young woman raised back her palm and smacked it across his right cheek.

Sam recoiled back abruptly, a gasp caught in his throat.   
He rolled onto his back, breathing in as much air as possible with shock frozen upon his face as he gazed up at his sister.

"Long time no see." Lara huffed; Sam's only reply was a one of his famous, bone-crushing hugs as he sat up with sobs clenched in his lungs and laughed out a watery sigh. He was speechless.   
It took some time for them to separate and stand, since both were too apprehensive to believe that this was real and that the other sibling was alive too. Nevertheless, the sudden realisation of one very missing brother caused them both to venture out of the bloody room. 

 

✰☄

 

 **Time:** 06:19:09pm  _and counting_  |  **Same Location**

Only a few minutes had passed since Dean was left in this god-forsaken room on this god-forsaken chair. He had tried escaping using multiple tactics, only to be faced with failure.   
_Again_.

It was torturous for the man to just sit there, in a long and narrow windowless, dark room all on his own; all he could hear was his own thoughts.   
He could all ready hear his dad berating him for letting Sam and Lara down.   
He could hear Lara plummeting alongside gravity.  
He could hear Sam scream for his dead sister.  
He could hear his own, too.   
But most of all, he could  _imagine_  his mother's disappointment at seeing two of her offspring so early on in Heaven.

Evidently, being stranded in a room on his own was making Dean go crazy, since he's actually  _considering_  the thought of a real-life Heaven. And drastically, he was letting his emotions get the better of him.

And then, startling him from the abruptness of no more quiet, Dean heard distant voices. Both were young; only, one was more monotone whilst the other was, almost, bordering adult masculinity.  _Could it be?_

Dean really was going  _insane_. 

 

✰☄

 

 **Time:**  06:15:45pm  _and counting_  |  **Same Location**

Lara's hand was clutched into her brother's like an anchor; the last time she had felt this scared was on that second day of November all those ten months ago, where she had (coincidently) collided with Sam and Dean. At least this bout of fear was not brought on by travelling thousands of miles from one country to another within  _milliseconds_.   
Nevertheless, this time herself  _and_  her brother had come back from the dead from one headshot each. Fortuity was now becoming a lot more serious.

Leading the way, Sam monitored the surroundings in front of him with his body protecting the youngster. They both took long, deliberate steps in order to keep an eye out for either Alec or the other six. The warehouse had a numerous amount of turns and doorways, making it seem like Dean would never been found within the vast building; only two or three minutes had passed until suddenly, one of the sturdier men appeared from one of many infinite corners.

Sam quickly manoeuvred them back into a shadowed part of the wall, allowing the man to walk by in ease; the teenager bet that the hallway he had come from was where Dean was, and that the man was probably in front of the door where his brother was as a guard. Now's their time to act, then. 

 

✰☄

 

 **Time:** 06:19:25pm  _and counting_  |  **Same Location**

After a damn load more attempts, Dean had – finally, at least – escaped that ghastly chair. A crowbar had been laying quite conveniently near him, so he stooped down and grasped the metal in his hand in a defensive manner.

And yet, the voices were becoming louder. Clearer. Closer and  _closer_. He did not think he would be able to stand it for much longer, since said voices were now calling for his name.   
_No_ , Dean would not comprehend it at all. The Winchester stood stock still, leaning on the closest wall adjacent to the chair, and clenched his eyes shut for a second, pretending to be someplace else. He imagined greasy cheeseburgers, his beloved baby, the Impala, even  _Busty Asian Beauties._ However, nothing could ever –  _would_   _have_  ever – block out the cries of Sam and Lara.

He opened his eyes once more, edging closer to the far door; at the sound of a clatter, Dean held the crowbar high upon his right shoulder, similarly to how he was taught to hold a baseball bat by Bobby Singer.

Dean Winchester was aghast at the sight of them. 

 

✰☄

 

 **Time:** 06:19:57pm  _and counting_  |  **Same Location**

She could not help herself at the sight of her brother. Unhesitatingly, she ran to him.

He stood comically, in her perspective; a crowbar rose against his head with pure utter  _shock_  moulded onto his stupid, idiotic face. Dean's grip on the bar faltered within reaching a few feet of him, and he gladly enabled the metal to slip out of his hands in order to harbour the Lara in an embrace; Sam was not far behind in the growing hug-gone-rugby tackle.

"I honestly can not believe you're both alive." Was all Dean could mutter inconspicuously into Lara's blonde hair, as he wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulder. No other syllables were spoken.

In any other case, Dean would have felt like a complete utter  _sap._ Frankly, a dubious twenty-one year-old man should feel quite apprehensive on the topic of emotions _,_ but right now, he could not give a crap; dignity be  _damned_. But Dean realised long, long ago that Winchesters could not relate any better to the old phrase that goes: _'actions speak louder than words'_ , so who was to go against him with that?   
Dean also knew – in quite an anxious state – that his sixteen year-old sister (presently snivelling in his arms) and his brother of seventeen grasping onto his girth would obligingly take a promenade in Perdition just to save his sorry ass.

And,  _Heaven forbid_ , he sure as Hell would do the same for them.

None of the siblings were willingly compromised to disentangle from the rarity of a Winchester hug, but eventually – due to the location and potential threat of being found – the eldest feebly tugged the adolescents into a stance on their feet. Dean then pulled away from his siblings slightly, just enough so he could reach back down for the discarded crowbar. He held it in his right hand once more, and with his left arm held out low, Dean restrained Sam by barricading him partially behind his arm and back; Sam did the same with his left arm to protect Lara.

Dean from the front – albeit still a little watery – murmured to the two: "Let's go haul some ass." And, before staggering back to the Impala,  _haul some ass they did._

 

✰☄

 

 **Time:**  06:15:03pm  _and counting_  |  **Location:**  Latitude: 39.98932  **;**    
Longitude: -115.11955  **;**    
14 Miles West off Nevada State Route 489  **;**   _Isolated Warehouse & Land_

_ He _ _can hear the man still._

_The first-born; struggling against his captors' grasps causes even the minuscule of movements, the quietest of sobs, to resonate towards his ears, which the eight _living _Homo-sapiens will have only interpreted as background noise._  
_But not to him. He is picking up the frequency _loud _like radar._

_ His _ _current position behind a pillar gives him three conveniences:_

  1. _He can regard Dean Winchester's pure devotion – admire _raw _human emotions - towards his deceased siblings._
  2. _Most importantly to him, he is still concealed from said Homo-sapiens; if these lunatic men report him to the Angels, then he would be in a deep pile of crap for helping the Winchesters (how ironic, due to the current situation of _family _). But, in his defence, it isn't as if he has a choice in what he was here for._
  3. _Which leads onto the main priority of completing his duties: save Lara Winchester._



_And, apparently, a Sasquatch._

_The living have now departed from the incredibly high and wide room, so he settles his focus onto the deceased. He takes languid strides towards them, a grim expression set on his usual uncaring face. Getting closer, he stares numbly at the bloodied corpses with hair plastered across pale foreheads and stares numbly at the bloodied embrace being shared and stares numbly at the youthful but dead eyes which bore into each other's cold features._

_This is not right._  
_Even he can see that. _  
_And he isn't even human. _  
_Yet humans have caused this._  
_Caused this upon teenagers that were still_ children  _in their own way._

_ He _ _did not want to admit it but evidently, he'd grown emotionally attached to his ward and her faulty family._

_Wanting to be anywhere but here, he squats before the crowns of both children quickly connects his fore and middle fingers on each forehead. He allows his hands to drift away almost instantaneously from the unnaturally cold heads. He stands, chin held high whilst rolling his shoulders in a forwards motion; he can not risk lingering much longer._

_So, as soon as he sees colour flood though the humans' skin, he_  ** _flies_** _._

**Author's Note:**

> Co-ordinates used are from https://www.random.org/geographic-coordinates/, so please do not quote me on accuracy aha because I was quite lazy to make some up, even though it took several attempts to land random global co-ordinates in America.


End file.
